


A Lonely Heart

by WritLarge



Series: JackRabbit Easter 2015 [3]
Category: Mr. Peabody & Sherman (2014), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 22:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3706527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritLarge/pseuds/WritLarge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aster and Mr. Peabody are close friends and Bunny worries about Peabody being alone. Peabody finds Aster’s relationship with Jack... intriguing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lonely Heart

**Author's Note:**

> For the Healing prompt.

Mr. Peabody breathed a sigh of relief once they’d ensconced themselves behind the thick, locked door that sealed the entrance to the WABAC server room. Sherman was on the other side with Penny, Jack, and the small tooth fairy the Guardian of Fun had brought with him. Mr. Peabody had confessed a wariness of the Tooth Fairy and her ability to enter even the most secure of premises. This was an attempt to illustrate how harmless they were, apparently. 

“There. Peace at last,” he seated himself next to his friend. Aster handed him one of the glasses of delicious beverage that he had thoughtfully brought from his personal stores. There was nothing else quite like it. Aster guarded the recipe zealously. The children had received a variety of chocolate, of course, of which neither Aster nor Peabody would partake, and fresh fruit that would no doubt be ignored.

“Cheers, mate.” Their glasses clinked. Peabody felt the weight of the past week drain from the muscles of his back. If anyone had ever posited that the Easter Bunny did, in fact, exist, let alone that he would become one of Mr. Peabody’s closest friends, he would have thought them mad. And yet, here they were.

It was liberating to have someone that could speak on his level. Oh, they weren’t equals in every respect. Aster couldn’t play a musical instrument to save his life. However, the humanoid lagomorph exceeded Mr. Peabody in other ways, artistry for one. Poor Leonardo would have wept had he seen what Aster was capable of when he put the eggs aside. Aster was also clearly leading in Biology whereas theoretical sciences like advanced Physics were more Peabody’s strength. He did suspect that it was less that Aster lacked the ability in those areas and more that he simply could not be bothered to spend his time on it, he had probably forgotten more than Mr. Peabody had ever learned if his biographical stories were to be believed. He didn’t mind though. On the contrary, he thrived on the challenge his friend provided. Their debates were exhilarating. Particularly when they waded in historical discussions. Aster had not only lived throughout the entirety of mankind’s existence, he was also a fellow time traveller, albeit a retired one.

In fact, Aster took great pleasure in dropping hints about events that would leave Peabody pondering their meaning for days. According to his friend, Aster and he had met some time ago, before Sherman had come home with his Belief and infected his father as well. It infuriated him to no end that Aster refused to say where or when and so Peabody still had no idea which of the trips he had yet to take would lead to their meeting.

One area that did leave Mr. Peabody completely bewildered, however, was magic. It niggled at him to have such a broad discipline out of his reach, but he was mostly content to let it lie. Today, there was another topic to be discussed. One that Peabody had not seen coming.

“The boy? Really Aster?” Aster chuckled at Peabody’s raised eyebrow.

“He’s not really a boy though, is he? He may look young, but Jackie’s well over three hundred years old.”

“So it doesn’t bother you?”

“No,” he said. “You don’t approve?”

“I didn't say that,” Mr. Peabody clarified.

“Good.”

In fact, despite the odd contrast of their bodies and ages, Mr. Peabody found himself glad for his friend’s newfound relationship. It made Aster happy, which could only be a good thing, and Peabody had enough experience of being judged to keep him from being close-minded. Truth be told, he was somewhat envious.

At first he had thought the wintery spirit to be quite foolish, childish even, but other stories quickly led Mr. Peabody to believe there were depths to Jack Frost that he simply hadn't seen. There must be for someone like Aster, who Peabody viewed as a kindred soul, to form such a bond with him. Mr. Peabody had known them both equally long though Aster infinitely better. He expected that Aster would require more than a bit of fun from a lover, given his eons old heartache, and Jack seemed adept at providing it.

Peabody had yet to bring himself to call the Guardian of Hope Bunny, let alone any of the varied nicknames he heard Jack Frost use. He considered it demeaning. He’d referred to him initially by the title of Guardian until an official introduction had provided a proper name. Aster had soon insisted on his informal name, rather than Mr. Bunnymund. Mr. Peabody had no other name to give in return, aside from the dropping of formality. Fortunately, Aster hadn’t seemed to care.

“You can’t begrudge me worrying about your well-being, my friend. I haven’t that many people to fuss over, you know.” Peabody pointed out.

“No worries, mate. You mean well. We’ve gotten worse reactions though not by much thankfully. North was set back on his heels a bit over it, but Snowflake gave him a right talking to.” The Pooka smirked and Mr. Peabody joined him as he visualized what a righteously insulted Jack Frost might inflict upon an unsuspecting Santa Claus. 

Aster’s list of friends was actually not much longer than Mr. Peabody’s. The Guardians numbered five now though there was their staff to consider. Aster seemed to get along with them, easiest with the Sandman and most antagonistically with North. Once again, he was unable to properly assess the Tooth Fairy’s place in matters. Peabody had Sherman and he couldn’t properly count his son as a friend, could he? There was Leonardo, when Mr. Peabody was able to visit, and recently Patty, Penny’s mother. She had such a sunny disposition and genuine warmth. She was clever in her own way too. They had bonded over the culinary arts and her competitive nature was inversely proportional to her husbands, for which he was grateful. Patty had proven an invaluable resource in helping Sherman adjust at school and even showed concern for Mr. Peabody’s well-being, though she’d never braved a discussion that involved dating. Peabody still found Paul irksome, though he clearly loved his wife, which granted him some respect.

Penny, and her increasingly affectionate relationship with Sherman, was another matter. That was a snarled mess of emotions that he wasn’t quite willing to examine just yet. So he let it be, and he played nice with Paul, and he envied how happy Patty was in her ideal family unit.

“What is it like?” The words leapt from his mouth before he could properly consider them.

“What was that?” Aster’s ears twitched and swiveled towards him. Peabody paused slightly before deciding to press forward on the subject.

“With Jack. I only- that is to say… “ he trailed off. His vocabulary was failing him rather thoroughly at the moment. Fortunately, Aster comprehended his meaning.

“Ah. Well, I’ve no comparison that will make sense to you really. It’s still surprising to me,” he said, scratching his head thoughtfully. Aster set his glass down and gazed off into the glowing lights of the servers. “It’s… good. Wonderful. Comforting. I expected it to be harder, reopening old wounds, but it wasn’t. It was more like finding wounds I hadn’t even known I had, only to discover them already healing over.” His expression had gone soft, the way it often did when Peabody caught Aster watching Jack, in those times that the Guardian of Fun had settled and was especially good with the children, more so then either of them in fact.

“And you never though it was… wrong?” It was left unsaid, but it was plain that he wasn’t referring to their ages.

“I’ve met a lot of sentient species, Peabody. They’re all a bit different – fur, feathers, scales. Pookas were quite the shape shifters once too. It’s earth-bound humans that have issues with form, right down to a handful of bloody skin tones. To me, it’s about a meeting of spirit. If two beings of like mind can come together, whatever their physical appearance, then good on them. When you get right down to it, the only opinions that matter are your own the theirs, whoever they may be.”

“I suppose I can see your perspective,” he broached the subject cautiously. He wouldn’t have even tried with anyone else. “I’ve only ever been aware of two options for those like us – partners physically similar, with no true level of sentience, or humans, who are generally repelled by bestial forms. Neither choice would make for an ideal relationship, I should think.”

“What do you want?” Aster asked, instead of addressing the whys and wherefores of the attraction between himself and Jack.

“I beg your pardon?” Mr. Peabody said.

“What do you want in a partner? If your options were open Peabody, what sort of companion or lover would you pick?”

“I- You… No one’s ever asked me that before and, truly, I’m not sure it’s a subject on which I wish to dwell.” What Mr. Peabody wanted had never been important when, in truth, it came down to what was actually possible and whether he might be able to accept that reality or would rather remain alone. Sherman been a fortunate accident, and even then he’d nearly lost the boy. If he was as clever as everyone thought he was he’d be grateful for what he had and leave it at that.

“And yet?” The Guardian of Hope prodded him, insufferable optimist that he was.

“Very well,” he conceded, know that his friend would not let it lie now that the matter had been raised. “Intelligence, of course, but not necessarily genius. Compassion. Honesty. A fondness for children.“ 

Sherman’s needs were paramount. Mr. Peabody had always wished he could be more warmly affectionate with Sherman. A partner might compensate for that particular failing.

“And physically? Would you prefer someone more like yourself?” Aster leaned back on his elbows. Peabody eyed the grey fur and sleek muscle of his friend’s tall frame and realized that he did have his own preferences. 

“I am very unsure as to how I might answer that delicately,” he averred. “How did you know you preferred Jack, and vice versa?”

“Oh, he was quite forward about it,” Aster grinned. “He’s gorgeous aesthetically speaking and I learned to appreciate the native forms of life here long ago. Turns out we fit together nicely, even if we have our disagreements. Frankly, it would be dull otherwise.”

“And you are lovers, not merely companions?”

“Yeah, we are, but stop drifting away from the ruddy subject, mate. We were discussing your needs, not my bedroom antics.” He jostled Peabody amicably. No, he wasn’t attracted to his friend per se, but he could admire both human and animal traits. He might enjoy fur or skin, or perhaps even feathers, but Mr. Peabody was aware of one trait that mattered to him.

“I genuinely am unsure of my preferences, though I do believe I would find it difficult to be… intimate with someone that was significantly larger in size than myself. Unfortunately, as you can see, my stature greatly reduces any pool of options I might have.” 

“Humans and dogs aren’t your only candidates though,” Aster said.

“You’re talking about spirits again, aren’t you?” he sighed and rose, pacing a little.

“I could introduce you around if you like, formally. I wouldn’t throw you at their feet and tell them to have a go.” The teasing tone was a familiar one.

“Yes, I know, but I am a dog of science, Aster.” He gestured around them at the blue swirling lines of code. “A relationship entwined with magic would most certainly stretch the bounds of reason and normalcy. I am something of a public figure as well. People would be aware of my activities.”

“You might be surprised how open minded some are-” Aster sat up on his haunches, watching Mr. Peabody carefully.

“Minority though they may be,” he interjected.

“-and I think between your canine academic wizardry and your temporal meddling, you left normalcy behind some time ago.”

“You’ve no small truth there.” Mr. Peabody admitted. 

“You don't think that folk would like you taking a lover at all, do you?”

“No, I do not. Certainly not a human one.” He stopped and met his friend’s keen green eyes. The lagomorph shook his head in exasperation. 

“Then you're going to have to consider the magical route, mate.” 

“Even if I did, it remains problematic, given that the public doesn't believe in magic.” Belief had been difficult for Mr. Peabody. Sherman’s insistence had peaked his curiosity and he’d later learned that Aster had helped Sherman with his arguments and proofs. The Pooka had sought out Peabody’s friendship particularly, which had stunned the genius, as no one else had ever done so that hadn’t wanted something from him in return.

“Well they've accepted a talking dog haven't they? And they don't need to know about the magic behind it. Humans tend to make up their own explanations anyway.” Aster had a point. He’d experienced how easily humans could justify anomalies to themselves with the most mundane of explanations. 

“Besides, you’re a charming bastard when you put your mind to it.”

Mr. Peabody smiled then. He did have a way with people when he tried. Was it really only his own reluctance and, let’s be honest, fear of rejection that held him back? The Guardian of Hope was observing him with a knowing look, still crouched down closer to eye level in a small consideration that Peabody appreciated.

“Perhaps I might ‘give it a burl’,” he said, using one of the odd Australian expressions that Aster attempted to keep to a minimum in their conversations.

“That's the spirit!” The wordplay was not lost on Mr. Peabody.

“Ha ha, but let's start with simple introductions shall we? And I'd prefer if you kept Sherman out of it for now.” He didn’t want Sherman getting involved or attached to the idea, or to anyone, before he himself was certain. 

“Fair enough.” Another thought occurred to Peabody, though he didn’t want to offend his friend by voicing it indelicately.

“If we are going to do this, you do realize my tastes, as untried as they are, will be far more sedate than your own?” As if on cue, a raucous cheer filtered into the room from outside the door. “I don't have your... fortitude, I expect.”

Aster laughed out loud and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Don't worry, I won't let Jackie meddle.”

“Excellent,” he replied, relieved.

For a moment, a comfortable silence descended upon them. It struck Peabody then, how apt Aster’s title was. Not only that he could inspire hope, but that he could, after so very long, still have any left at all to give.

It quiet wasn’t to last though, because a jarring crash resounded from the apartment. Oh dear. The tiny tooth fairy, Baby Tooth he recalled, zipped into the server room as if the door didn’t exist and went straight to Aster. Her eyes were wide and apologetic as she twittered a reassurance. 

“We’d better see what those galahs are up to before they tear the place down,” Aster said, amused and chagrinned. 

“Indeed. After you, my friend.” Mr. Peabody followed Aster out with a hopeful spring in his step. 

***** 

“So, how did it go?” asked Jack on the walk back through the tunnels.

“It was good,” Aster replied. Peabody had finally opened up on the subject.

“Did he agree?” 

“Didn’t you agree to stay out of it?” He looked at his lover pointedly.

“Yes, but I just want to know. Sherman is going to clue in soon enough and start worrying.”

“I know.” Sherman was nine. It would only be a few short years before both Sherman and Peabody were faced with the boy’s transition into adulthood. Eventually he would grow up and apart, as all children do, building a family of his own. Peabody needed something, someone, for himself. And that wasn’t even addressing Peabody’s age. “I’m working on it.”

“I’m glad you guys are friends.” They emerged into the light of the Warren. Home.

“So am I. C’mere you.” Aster caught Jack in a lingering kiss. When they finally parted, Jack looked up at him with curious eyes.

“Would you ever have -?” He didn’t have to finish for Bunny to know what Jack was asking.

“Me and Peabody? Nah. Even if there hadn’t been you, we’re too much alike.” Though he prized their friendship. It had set Bunny to thinking a great deal on the flexibility of the canine lifespan.

“Was it hard for you when you first came here? Did you give up on finding love?” Jack asked gently.

“I suppose I did,” he nuzzled Jack. “Just goes to show, nothing’s ever hopeless.”

It was ironic, Aster thought. He had set his heart aside when he’d first arrived on Earth, letting it harden and freeze over from want of use, and Jack, with all his wintery bluster, had been the one to thaw it and bring his ability to love back to life. It had healed a wound Aster had forgotten he’d had.

"So," Jack pulled back, “who were you thinking?”

“Frostbite-“ Aster retreated from the mouth of the tunnel and sat down on a grassy slope.

“Okay, okay! When will you be going back to review spirit dating profiles and reminisce about ye olde ancient times then?” Aster swatted Jack when he settled next to him. “Because, I was talking to Sherman, and we could always-“

“No time travel.”

“Come on, Bunny. Where’s your sense of fun?” Jack wheedled.

“No.”

“Not even once?” Jackie climbed into Aster’s lap and batted his eyes. Bunny cupped his chin and locked their gazes.

“Not. Even. Once.” Aster would bend the rules considerably for those he cared about, he was certainly planning something along those lines for Peabody, but the idea of Jack potentially running amok through time was unsettling, no matter how much he loved the brat.

“Hmm. Well,” Jack smirked and ran his fingers through Aster’s ruff, pressing against him impatiently, “I guess you better entertain me now then.”

“I reckon so,” he agreed, and proceeded to do just that.


End file.
